


Only Words Bleed

by nuclearjessels



Series: Quiet Corners [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Beorn's House, First Kiss, M/M, Quest fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 12:51:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2229639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuclearjessels/pseuds/nuclearjessels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwalin always appreciated silence, and the dwarves he met who were comfortable with it. But Balin had taught him that real connections were created by carefully chosen words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Words Bleed

Beorn’s house was large and homey, fireplaces taller than Dwalin’s head and benches that the dwarves had to climb up onto in a rather undignified manner. Regardless, it was the most comfortable place they had stayed since Bag-end. (Dwalin would rather die than admit anything about Elven halls had been comfortable.) Once the huge skin-changer had warmed to the company, their meals had been hearty and mead flowed freely. The second night of their stay everyone’s spirits were so high they pulled out what instruments had survived the ordeal in the goblin caves and sat around Beorn’s great hall playing and singing. Much to his relief, Dwalin’s own fiddle had made it through untouched.

He lost himself in victory songs and bar chanteys, barely noticing when the youngest member of their company shuffled over to sit by his feet, back pressed against the leg of the low lying sofa he was seated on. He had a mug of mead between his hands, and Dwalin only lost the beat for a second when he noticed Ori’s ruddy cheeks pulled into a ridiculous smile as he hummed along. After that first night at the base of the carrock, neither of them had spoken more than a dozen words to each other. But if they happened to walk a little closer together on the trail, sit a little closer together around the fire, and pull their bedrolls next to each other’s while making camp, it went unnoticed, or at least unmentioned, by the other members of the company.

As the evening wore on the dwarves packed up their instruments one by one and bade the others goodnight, until Dwalin was the only one still playing. He chose a lullaby, something his mother used to sing to him and Balin when they were dwarflings. It was a quiet and mournful song, the sort of lullaby suited to great halls or dark times. Ori climbed up next to him on the sofa, silent as a mouse until the last notes rung out.

“That was incredible,” he said, offering Dwalin his mug once he had set his fiddle down into its case. Dwalin took it from him, hiding his smile with a deep swig.

  
“Thank you, lad,” he said, offering the mug back. Beorn’s relative size to the dwarves meant that the amount of mead he was pouring could quite possibly kill a dwarf Ori’s size, and it was no great burden to share. The same comfortable silence they had been sharing the last few days settled over them now that they were the only ones left awake. Dwalin always appreciated silence, and the dwarves he met who were comfortable with it. But Balin had taught him that real connections were created by carefully chosen words.

“My mother used to sing it to me,” he said, eyes fixed on the crackling fire. “Back in Erebor, when Thorin and I were dwarflings. Before the dragon.”

He glanced over at his companion, who looked taken aback at what was possibly the most consecutive words he had ever said to him.

“It’s lovely,” he replied after a moment. “Did your mother play as well?”

Dwalin had to laugh at this, letting out a low chuckle as he grabbed back the mug of mead. “Oh, no. That dwarrow dam couldn’t even carry a tune to save her life. She was a metal worker.”

“Is she…” Ori started to ask.

Dwalin cut him off, “No. She died in the fall. Balin got me out. It’s just been the two of us ever since.”

“My mother died too,” Ori said, “In childbirth. That’s why Dori is always so overbearing. He raised me. Nori too, but in a different way.”

He unconsciously shifted closer to the dwarf, who looked very small with the admission. He had no idea why the sons of Ri were such a tight knit little group, but it suddenly made sense. Ori rested his head against Dwalin’s shoulder, sighing as he continued, “I wish I could have known her. I know bits and pieces from what my brothers tell me, but it would be nice just to hear her voice.”

Dwalin wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer, wanting to help and being frustrated that he couldn’t do anything. “I’m so sorry,” he said.

Ori laughed lightly, grabbing on to Dwalin’s forearm where it crossed his chest. “Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything.”

There was a pause when they just sat there curled around each other, both a little drunk. He buried his face into Ori’s hair, pressing his lips to the top of his head. Ori turned slightly in his grasp, large brown eyes meeting his. The trust in them was complete, and it sent a jolt of fear through Dwalin’s gut. Before he could dwell on it, he dismissed any doubts he was holding onto and kissed him. It was a soft kiss, a hesitant meeting of lips that prevented him from thinking of anything else. Ori grabbed at his hair, pulling him down as Dwalin’s arms tightened around his waist. He could feel the young dwarf’s back arching into him as their kiss deepened, the gentle insistence of his tongue trying to meet his own. Dwalin pulled away briefly to inhale a ragged breath as Ori nipped at his bottom lip, hands squirming around his neck in an attempt to bring him closer. He could taste mead on the boy’s tongue.

It wasn’t as if he had never imagined this scene before. Ori splayed out beneath him, flesh on flesh and the younger dwarf’s quiet begging to be touched by him, only him. But not here, not like this.

“I think it’s best we called it a night, don’t you think?” he said softly. He slid his hands to Ori’s elbows, gentling untangling the two of them.

Ori nodded, wiping his mouth and blushing, seemingly unable to meet Dwalin’s eyes.

“Hey now,” he said, placing a hand on his neck and ducking his head to look Ori in the eye. He kissed him one more time, a firm but chaste kiss that he hoped said everything he didn’t have the courage too. When he pulled away, the smile he got in return was the only reply he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> I felt inspired to continue with the idea of little moments during the quest. There will probably be more after this. Maybe something porny. Haha. Thanks for reading and as always feedback much welcome!


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